Chapter 56 Before the Storm

Some storms arrive in silence. Others carry the scent of ash long before the first strike.

The quiet didn’t last.

Morning brought a haze that clung to the windows like breath on glass. The scent of scorched air arrived first—dry, distant, and wrong.

Skye was the first to notice. She stood sharpening a blade near the door, nose wrinkling. “Something’s burning.”

Revoli sat up with a groan, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s not us again, is it?”

Fara stirred from her seat by the hearth, tails low. All three of them now. She pulled the third close against her thigh like she didn’t want it seen.

Kai was already up. He crossed the room and looked out through the warped glass panes.

No fire. No smoke. But the sky didn’t look right. The light felt thinner somehow—hollow.

The knock on the door wasn’t polite.

It was desperate.

Kai threw it open—and Lena stumbled inside, coughing, her cloak torn and blackened, hair soaked in soot and sweat. Her face was streaked gray, one cheek blistered, her lips cracked from heat. She fell to one knee, and Skye caught her.

“Gods,” Fara whispered, already reaching out with healing magic in her palms.

“I’m fine—don’t touch me,” Lena wheezed, but she didn’t shake off Skye’s support.

Kai knelt beside her. “What happened?”

Lena’s eyes burned with urgency. “The guildhouse… it’s gone.”

The air changed.

No one spoke.

Fara’s tails froze mid-sway.

“What do you mean gone?” Revoli asked, voice tight.

“I mean gone,” Lena rasped. “The east wing collapsed. Fire burst from the walls—everywhere. No warning. No torches. Just fire that shouldn’t have been able to exist.”

Skye looked stunned. “But the wards—those have held for centuries.”

“They didn’t,” Lena said, her voice cracking. “And the council… they’re blaming her.”

She looked toward Fara.

Everyone turned with her.

Fara didn’t flinch. “What?”

“They’re saying your spirit energy disrupted the wards. That your tails triggered the rupture. That the fire came from you.”

“That’s insane,” Skye said, her voice hard. “She’s been here the whole time.”

“They don’t care,” Lena said. “They just need a name to put on a bounty.”

Revoli’s jaw clenched. “They’re afraid. So they’re picking a target.”

Fara didn’t say a word. Her third tail twitched, curling slightly. She didn’t argue. She didn’t deny. She just breathed through her nose, slow and even.

“They’ve issued warrants,” Lena went on. “Posters. Rewards.”

Kai moved to stand in front of Fara. “Then we leave. Tonight.”

“No.”

The voice came from behind them.

Patrona.

She sat up fully, pale but focused. Her movements were slower, but her voice was sharp. She pulled off the blanket and set her feet on the floor with a slight tremble.

“You leave in chaos, you die in chaos,” she said. “You need direction.”

Kai turned to her. “You know something.”

“I’ve always known something,” Patrona said. “I just didn’t trust you yet.”

Skye crossed her arms. “And now you do?”

“No,” Patrona said without hesitation. “But I trust what I’ve seen since.”

She straightened, pushing through her weakness with sheer will.

“I fought beside Gregory when we sealed the first Demon Lord,” she said. “We gave everything to finish it. And when he lost that last duel to Kai… when his pride broke… he cut me loose like I was nothing.”

Kai’s brow furrowed. “And Malrissa?”

Patrona’s voice darkened. “She’s what rose when the seal cracked. Not a warlord. A wound. She’s not power—she’s pain that festered.”

Revoli narrowed her eyes. “She’s already here?”

Patrona nodded once. “In whispers. In scorch marks. In things that should stay dead but don’t.”

She reached into her cloak and pulled out a singed map, still warm with protective runes that flickered faintly. She laid it on the table.

“This,” she pointed to the center, “is where the seal once held.”

Her finger slid to the lower corner—new ink scrawled in red over old lines.

“And this is where she broke free.”

“We leave tonight,” Kai said, rolling up the map.

Revoli blinked. “That soon?”

“They’ll come here next,” he said. “Burning the guildhouse wasn’t just destruction—it was a setup. We’re next. It makes the story clean.”

Skye nodded grimly. “We pack light. Nothing that ties us down.”

Kai rattled it off. “Weapons. Potions. Travel food. Essentials only.”

Patrona added, “There’s a smuggler’s trail near the southern checkpoint. It’s hidden. We move by moonlight. Quiet and slow.”

Lena pushed to her feet. “Then I’m coming wi—”

Kai raised a hand. “No. You’re not.”

She hesitated, hurt flickering behind her eyes.

“I’m taking you to the riverside inn,” he said. “The one I used when I first got here. It’s off the roads. Quiet. You’ll be safe there.”

Lena’s fists tightened, but she gave a small nod. “Okay.”

They moved fast.

Skye checked straps and lined up spare blades.

Fara gathered poultices, dried herbs, and scrolls bound with wax.

Revoli raided the pantry, stuffing bread and salted meat into a sack. “Not a single chili pepper in this dump,” she muttered.

Kai knelt with his darkwood fighting batons. He cleaned them slowly, wiping the length of each one with cloth and oil. His fingers paused over the runes burned into the sides.

Patrona accepted a shortblade with a nod. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.

By twilight, the room looked empty.

The home they’d shared—if only for a short time—was stripped of its warmth. Shadows crept into corners that once held laughter.

Fara stood at the threshold, golden-red hair lit by the last of the sun. Her ears twitched once, listening for something that wasn’t there.

“It won’t be here when we return,” she said softly.

“No,” Kai replied. “But we will.”

He turned to the three girls. His voice was steady.

“To me, home isn’t a place,” he said. “It’s standing here. With the three of you.”

Skye glanced away, blinking fast.

Revoli smiled with tired eyes.

Fara’s third tail wrapped gently around her ankle, quiet and calm.

Kai stepped forward and met each of their gazes.

“I don’t know where this leads. I don’t know what Malrissa wants. But wherever we go—whatever we face—that’s where home goes, too.”

None of them replied.

They didn’t have to.

One by one, they stepped through the door.

Into night.

Into danger.

Into each other.

Together.